The Visit
by cclee123
Summary: Gingers Snaps 2 Unleashed: Brigitte recieves a visitor at the hospital, in the middle of the night.
1. Chapter 1

They're keeping me here.

They've locked me up.

They don't understand..

How could they?

Ginger thought it was bullshit, and she was _living _it.. She didn't _understand _until it was too late..

Everytime I try to explain, they assume something entirely different.

Everytime I look in the mirror I see someone else.

I'm scared. They assure me it's withdrawal.

I told them people would die. _Way t'go Bee._

I can't stop it. My own body's working against me..

I can't tell the time, but I know it must be after 5. The sun's going down. All I can do is lay here, in this cell, on this bed. Feel the subtle changes spread throughout my body, Ginger's voice whispering softly in my ear. She liked it. It's easy for her to help me along.

I roll over on my side, facing the door. For a moment, I imagine my grisly end, and exactly the picture I'm fighting against. My pride is keeping me from giving in to this. I _won'tcan't _become that thing. It's not me..like it wasn't her. We were normal once.

I'm starting to drift off, things are starting to get quieter..

"Brigitte. Brigitte, wake up." A soft tug on my shoulders. Hands, too big to be Ghost's, and a voice too masculine to be Alice's. But too gentle to be Tyler's.

I sit up with a start, meeting the eyes of a face I haven't seen since..

"Sam," I choked.

He smiled slowly at me. This wasn't right. My eyes grew wide: his grew soft.

"Sam," I repeated. I inched back slowly, my back pressed against the wall and the bed post. "You're dead." He stayed still, but somehow our distance didn't change. And he chuckled.

Scratching the side of his head, lopside grin pasted to his features: "Well, yknow, funny thing about that."

I waited. That obviously was the end of that sentence.

"What're you doing here Brigitte?" It wasn't a question as much as an interrogation. A tender one.

I shook my head slowly, sadly. "I'm changing."

He nodded. "I know. They've got you in a real fix."

"Help me." I felt my face shake a bit. "Help me get out of here."

"Not a whole lot I can do."

I reached forward, chose his chest for this test. Before I could make contact he took my hand.

"I'm sorry."

This couldn't be a dream. Dreams are scattered memories the brain collects. The things he's saying..the way he feels..

He's stroking my knuckle with his thumb. His eyes haven't left me. "I'm sorry about Ginger."

I'd forgotten she killed him. As if reading my thoughts, he added, "You and I both know that wasn't her."

"How do I know this is you?" This sounded stupid even as it left my mouth.

Another smile. "It could explain the ghost circumcised dick."

It wasn't funny then, it's not funny now. I haven't thought about him for years. I've forgotten all of this.

"You never forgot about me. Loss is painful, Brigitte, but you can't forget a guy like me."

Footsteps. Tyler's here.

Sam's not.

"No. I can't."

Authors note: I still not sure about whether this is finished. You can probably expect an improved version.I think I might even continue...


	2. Chapter 2

"My sister and I shared a room."

"Sleepover _every night,_" Ghost indulged, braces glistening in the dull light of the room.

"Kind of."

Silence fell. The younger girl fidgeted. Again, she spoke.

..."Do you miss her?"

Brigitte regarded her quietly. _Every day. Every minute. Every second. Everything I think about._

_Ginger and Brigitte walking home. Jason McCardy'd just made a pass at the older of the two._

_"Just say you won't go average on me," Brigitte pleaded._

_"Just 'cause some gonad gets his zipper going?" Ginger scoffed. "I'd rather be dead."_

_"I'd rather die than be here without you.."_

She turned away. "All the time."

Sleep came that night. It could've been because Ghost was good company. It _might've _been the result of sheer exhaustion. But it was, without a doubt, overdue.

"Brigitte." His voice is urgent. But it's also low.

"This is it, Sam." She's ready with what she has to say. "The end."

He smiles, knowingly. For someone who's made it her life's purpose to be an inpenetrable misanthrope, it shouldn't be that easy to smile in such a way. She'll never forgive him for it.

"Let's not panic here," Sam repeats.

"I don't think I can help it," she confides. A more honest admission of weakness was never spoken to her own sister.

But he nods, damn him, he _nods _in the affirmative. "You can."

His voice descends to new levels everytime he speaks.

"Why are you here?" she asks, more indignant than intended.

He doesn't faulter. _Can you phase a ghost? _"I came to see you." He wears the same expression he usually wears when accosted, like when she tried to dismiss him after he'd tried visiting her in class on the school field.

"Why bother?"

He doesn't miss a beat. "I'm about to tell you something. Something only 4 years worth of being dead could've possibly brought to light. Something an asshole like me couldn't possibly say unless I _was _dead."

She waits.

"I didn't decide to help you out of the goodness of my heart. And.." He scratches the back of his head, searching visually for words. "Brigitte, I never once believed you could be the animal your sister turned out. No, that's not it.." He's visibly aggravated with himself.

"What the _hell _are you trying to say?"

"That I believe in you. That before I died you proved me wrong about something." Sam licked his lips. This wasn't easy.

"I kept coming back. Before I knew it, I was helping someone other than myself. And I thought, 'if I could help her', if this kind of shit really exists in this world, then maybe..."

She searched his face, all of the modesty and tension that had built up in that half a month they knew one another rushing to the forefront of her dreaming mind.

.."maybe there was a little hope left for me, you know?"

And then she knew. _This kind of shit. _Not the impossible existence of lycanthropes, or horror, or a virus that turns your dearest family into a living nightmare. He was talking about love.

The sort of understanding one has for another when it seems the world is nothing short of a walking parody of a beautiful, but lost, truth. The kind that she could only share with Ginger.

_This is what he felt._

_But this is a dream._

_...Isn't it?_

Brigitte Fitzgerald didn't know what to say. Sam McDonald was opening his heart. And wasn't this, this feeling of affinity, what was transpiring everytime he came to her at Bailey Downs High? Wasn't associating with her, speaking to her with a solid integrity an indication that certain things were at work?

_"Um, I don't think of you that way."_

Sam picked up on this. "I didn't want it that way Brigitte," he chuckles. He's dancing on the balls of his feet uncomfortably. "I mean.."

"You don't have to explain."

"You won't be asleep forever."

A pause. "But I'll be asleep again."

Sunlight, prying it's slender fingers into her eyes. _I can fight it. I want this. _

"No," he whispers grimly. "This is our last time." The ghost manages a smile. "But hey. I'm satisfied."

"Sam.."

Morning. Birds chirping, Ghost snoring. Their ankles are entertwined, she notices. She turns on her side, awkwardly, the dream pasted to her thoughts.

_I have something to say. Another hour. Please._

Tenderly, so as not to wake the younger girl, she lays an arm across Ghosts, willing sleep to return.

Sam, however, didn't.

**Authors notes: I implore you to be nice with this. A couple of things to confess: I realize the narration changed. It couldn't be helped. If, for some irreparable reason you can't get past that, I'm sorry. But really, in what reality will this be published? This isn't serious work. The timing was rushed, the story progression was premature, and the behavior of our two leading character's may've been skewed to some degree. But despite all of this, I'm somewhat proud. :) If I come up with more ideas, you'll be sure to hear of it. But this is more of a "scattered moment" ensemble piece. Love, Sami.**


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